


Let's Get Married on a Space Station

by aimichan



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: 707 is already dead, F/M, mentions of Rika and V
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 01:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8947198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimichan/pseuds/aimichan
Summary: A What-If Saeyoung died at the end. How the MC lives on. Spoilers for the whole story and a few phone calls. A sad-fic.





	

_“I’ll love you forever,” he’d whispered in your ears on a bed in a cabin in the middle of nowhere._

 

_“I’ll fill you with so many happy memories that the days when I tried to push you away fade to nothing,” he’d said as he cradled your face and placed soft kisses on your mouth._

 

_“I’ll always be by your side’” he’d promised as he loved you gently, desperately, tenderly._

 

_“Liar,” you whisper as you lay on an empty bed, left with nothing but blood, tears, and death._

* * *

 

The cat turns on sporadically, chiming how you’re depressed, and to cheer up because you are with the one you love, and you want to throw the cat across the room and destroy it… but then it plays _his_ voice, “Honey Butter and Dr. Pepper are the best names for cats,” and your anger crumples as if cut from it’s strings.

You can’t destroy it because it holds his voice, but you can’t stand to see it because it hurts, because it’s not him no matter what he said about it being like him, so you hide it in a closet and try to forget it ever existed.

It never works because you feel his absence everywhere, even in your own home where he’s never set foot. It’s more his absence you feel and your thoughts on how you might have lived with him that haunt your every step.

Your phone rings and you can see it’s someone from the RFA, and you want to hurl your phone and watch it break into little pieces, but it’s another vestige of something you can’t bear to destroy because it holds the logs of your past conversations with him.

You spend the quiet hours of the night when no one else is on to go back and read through the chatter. You have it practically memorized and even still you can’t bear to let it go.

You cling to it desperately, and that’s how you notice a chat about Saeran. He’s not really responding to anything, and they’re going to transfer him to the psychiatric ward. Your first thought is ‘good,’ but then you can just imagine _his_ face and how he’d feel if his twin brother would be trapped again, and you somehow manage to pull yourself together and head out of your home for the first time in weeks.

The dean of the hospital is a fan of yours, and all it takes is a painting for him to put Saeran into your care because Saeran knows you, recognizes you from the start and for a moment, you’d thought he would try to push you away, to force you out, but the hint of anger sizzles out almost immediately and he acquiesces to leave with you.

Jumin Han has made at least the paperwork easy for you as Saeran’s not really registered at the hospital, and soon, the two of you are back at your home, your real home.

It’s a cozy home with a wide front yard filled with flowers and covered by a tall privacy fence, and an even larger backyard with a small pond with a variety of colors of fish swimming around inside.

The house itself only has 4 bedrooms although one is solely for storing your paintings while the other is for actually painting. You only have one spare bedroom and even that is cluttered with supplies and books. Thankfully, it only takes a few trips back and forth to move everything out of it and it has a bed and a dresser inside already so that makes your life a bit easier.

“Feel free to use whatever you need to. I should have extra toothbrushes in the supply closet which is over here,” you say as you walk throughout the home, pointing to doors and places as needed until you’re suddenly pushed up against a wall, a hand tight on your throat.

“Why did you bring me here.” His voice is ice cold, but that’s okay because that’s how you’ve felt since the gunshot rang in the air.

“Because your brother would want you to be free and happy, away from the… RFA,” you manage to spit out with minimal vitriol.

“And you think I will be happy with you?”! His voice is a bit more hysteric now, but you’ve passed that stage already, or maybe it’s buried under the numbness that prevails in your soul.

“I think happiness is something you make of where you are.” The words ring hollow to you, but it’s what you would have said before. You can’t see his face so you’re not sure what effect your words are having on him, but you settle for being as kind and truthful as you can because this is _his_ precious brother and he too has suffered under _her._

“I’m not here to cage you, but I don’t think your brother would have wanted you drugged up against your will and locked up again, not after everything he’s done,” you taper off because you can’t really bear to think of what happened then without losing it yourself.

“And because I… love your brother, and he loves you, I love you. It doesn’t have to make sense, but that’s how it is.”

“Even if I kill you?” He asks almost timidly, his hand loosening enough for you to turn around with the first smile you’ve had on your face since that night.

“Especially then,” you say almost hopeful to be sent away from this hell, but he backs off, like he’s seen your soul and understood something, and you think he probably has. You’re both in the same boat, missing half of your soul. But yours and Saeran’s souls don’t match because the pieces he took when he died is different for both of you, and all it has left is a hollowness in both of you.

You think Saeran can see it in you, and he goes back to being obedient and silent, but you think there’s a sort of acceptance in the air now.

It’s not that hard, living with Saeran. He’s pretty independent, although he’ll nag at you to eat something. The first time, you almost burst into tears because it’s _his_ face reprimanding you for not eating when he’s not eating, but you barely manage to hold it together because it’s not his exact voice and the frustration and hidden fondness is missing.

Saeran senses it too, because you see him flounder for a second, but he manages to pull himself together much faster than you and he keeps on nagging in his own way, and that helps you to focus on the now than then.

You do his laundry and he doesn’t make the fuss his brother made when you tried to do it back then, at the apartment, and sometimes you wonder if he can’t just pretend to be _him_ for just a second, to give you the illusion that everything is okay, but you know that’s not fair to either one, and you bury that thought deep in your mind.

You both find a balance in your lives. Saeran spends long moments staring at the sky, getting up only around meal times to prepare something because he knows you won’t eat unless he nags and you spend time in your bed staring at the wall or in your room staring at a blank canvas, wondering how to put all that you feel onto the white expanse.

Saeran gets comfortable quickly in your home, and you think he’s really improved as he engages you in small talk, although he stays away from the topic of his brother or the RFA. It’s almost nice the sense of normalcy and companionship you both have.

Then Jumin Han and his assistant come to visit. How he got your home address is a mystery. It’s not listed anywhere and you never told anyone, but it shouldn't surprise you as much as it did considering the money he’s got backing him.

Still, you can’t stand seeing his face there, all blank and unfeeling, with Jaehee a little uncertain but just as professional, and you lose it, throwing whatever you can grab at them, shouting and yelling for murder and death because they’ve come to gloat about the return of their friends of Rika and V who got off scotch free while _he’s_ dead and you want them to all die, and you barely notice Saeran pulling you away from them into the house, into your room and telling the other two that they aren’t welcome here and to leave.

You don’t remember getting up to the closet where the cat is hidden away, nor do you remember it turning on, but it must have sensed your depression because it’s trying to cheer you up and then you hear his voice. “Let’s get married on a space station,” and you burst into tears, your body wracking from the sobs because you can’t marry him here or on a space station because he’s gone forever, and you’re still here, and that hurts more than anything.

“But you’re not here!” you shout at the cat. “You’re gone, and I’m left behind! Why did you tell me to stay!” You punch the floor as you shout through your tears. “I don’t want to live without you,” you whisper broken and done.

There’s a glass shard on the floor that you broke during your rage and you pick it up. You can end it here and now and you’ll be with him, free to follow him to wherever he is. The thought it liberating and you feel so much better than you have since he’s gone.

You put the sharp edge of the glass to your skin and press but you’re not able to drag it across. Another hand, so familiar in shape but lighter in color grabs your own wrist tightly.

“He wouldn’t be happy if you did this,” Saeran says calmly.

You scoff at the words. “It’s not like you haven’t thought of it either,” you retort back.

He stays silent for a moment, as if trying to gather the words that could stop you, and then says, “He wanted you to live, even at the end.”

You shake in his grasp as you think back to that last moment, when he’d lain in your arms, blood pouring out of his chest so quickly there was nothing you could do to stop it even as you pressed into the wound tightly.

_I’m sorry._

_I love you._

_Please live on happily._

_I’ll be with you always…_

You thought you’d cried all your tears, but there are still more inside you because the crying hasn’t stopped since he’s left you alone, and nothing will ease the pain.

“Well, if he wanted me to live, he should have stayed alive!” you cry out as you curl into yourself, wanting to block out the world.

“You think I’m okay?!” Saeran’s voice goes up a notch, and you can tell he’s coming undone too. “I’m missing my brother who I thought had abandoned me! I was used and I… killed him. Why don’t you hate me?!”

“Because he loved you! It doesn’t have to make sense!” you shout back, your words ringing true for once, because you don’t hate him. You just hate Rika and V for using both of them and creating this situation.

You keep on sobbing, but Saeran seems to have calmed down, and he crouches down next to you. A moment’s hesitation is all there is before he pulls you into his chest, and you turn to wail into his still thin body. It’s different from _him,_ but for this moment, it’s enough. It has to be enough.

“I love you,” the cat says in his voice, the sound a little crackled and hesitant, and you turn blurry eyes to the cat, and you can almost see him there, and new tears drop down your cheeks as you whisper, “I love you too.”

* * *

 

There isn’t any big change afterwards. It still hurts to wake up knowing that he’s no longer in the world, but the cat is next to you, and it plays his last message to you, and while it hurts to hear it without him there, it helps you get up and start the day because he loves you, and that has to be enough now.

You and Saeran are closer now, no longer the acquaintance keeping their distance. He drags you out of painting to help him cook, and he’ll sit and comment as you paint, or ask for stories. In turn, you carefully broach for stories about their childhood, at least the happy moments, and you begin to teach Saeran how to paint on top of other things.

He’s missed out on a lot of schooling, and there’s large chunks in his education even if he’s a great hacker, so you try to fill those parts in however you can. You’ve even got an evening tradition of reading a book to Saeran, or vice versa right before bed, and all throughout the day, the cat follows you, chiming out I love you’s anytime it thinks you’re feeling low.

It’s during one of these nightly reading sessions on the couch, the cat sitting on your lap as Saeran reads from one of the fairy tale books that you get the idea. It hurts to even think it, but, “Saeran, I want to go to his house.”

Saeran pauses mid sentence, stares at the cat for a bit and seems to be gathering himself, which he tends to do frequently these days, but he comes back to you and hesitantly nods. “Only if you’re sure. There’s some things I wouldn’t mind getting.”

You nod as firmly as you can because just thinking about seeing his clothes, his cars, his home is enough to bring tears into your eyes, but you want to go. You want something of his with you right now, and while the cat is nice, and the phone is good, you want his clothes, you want his scents. You want everything you can get since you can’t have him.

You both decide to do it the next day. Better to do it sooner just in case the RFA or the remains of the agency gets any ideas.

Saeran knows how to get there, and he’s a safe driver, at least compared to your mental state. You arrive and there’s a door along with a retinal scan and 3 CCTVs pointing directly at you. There’s no windows or any other way to enter the building.

“Um…” you say hesitantly. “How are we going to get in?” You want to ask if he can hack in, but you don’t want to make Saeran do something he doesn’t want to do. You’re not like Rika, and you have no desire to ever do anything like what she did.

“I’m not sure. It’s very well protected, and I’m not as… skilled as my brother,” he admits grudgingly. ”I think there’s a passcode,” he says almost hopeful.

“So do we just ask what the password is, or-”

**Please sing ‘I am your leaf bread’ in Arabic.  
**

You and Saeran just stare at the door and then at each other. Neither of you apparently knows Arabic, nor do you know the song.

“This is just like him,” you say fondly because that’s the only thing you can do in this situation. You can’t go in, but it’s so _him_.

“He might have put in something for you,” Saeran says after another moment’s pause. “Ask it to let you in.”

You look at Saeran like he’s crazy, but then again, you’re the one going crazy here, so you turn to the door. “Please let me in. I just want to be with him.” You trail off, wondering what might make the door open for you. “I just want to be with Saeyoung because he’s not here anymore,” you say with tears in your eyes from saying his name, and all of a sudden, light scans your eyes at the same time three different lights scan your body.

**Voice confirmed. Retinal scan confirmed. Body scan confirmed. Welcome master’s precious person. Please enter.  
**

The door slides open and you step into his house. The lights all turn on the moment you enter, Saeran following closely behind as the door slides shut once more. It’s not a complete mess, but you can see the places where equipment is missing -the things he’d brought to the apartment- and where Vanderwood probably made a mess of as he’d rushed to chase after him.

The computers are there, as is the CCTV from the apartment, but you bypass all of it and head to his room where the scent hits you first. It’s _him_ all around. It’s purely Saeyoung, and for a moment, you feel like he’s next to you. You crawl into his bed and just let the tears stream out because you can feel his presence here, but also his absence, and you just take the time to soak it in because you might never get this chance again.

Saeran is out fiddling with things, and you pay it no mind because this was where you wanted to be, but after what seems like both a second and an eternity, Saeran peeks his head in, the robot dog _he’d_ made for you under his arms. “I’ve got the things I wanted… we should probably head back home soon.”

You almost miss the fact that he’s acknowledged your home as his home as well, but you wonder if it really is home. Some days it’s hard to feel like you have a home anymore because your home _died_ … but no. It is a home now, because Saeran is there, and so is cat, and now dog. You peek at his bathroom, taking note of the scents he’d used, grab a hoodie from the closet and slowly make your way out of the room.

You want to stay here forever, but you know it’ll just be your death, again, and Saeran won’t allow that, and you’re not sure if that’s what you want anymore, so you leave with him. Of course, you tell the door to keep everyone out unless it’s yourself and it locks itself up as you and Saeran go back home.

* * *

 

Life goes on and you’ve actually put on weight. A little too much weight considering you’d been underweight up to a few weeks ago. But it’s been 5 months since _he’s_ gone, and while you are eating normal and even healthy, thanks to Saeran, you couldn't have gained back all of the weight you’d lost in that first month of being without _him._

A thought lingers in your mind, but it should have been a safe day. Still, it’s strange, and you’ve had a feeling that this body just didn’t belong here anymore, and while you’d put it to _him_ being gone, it might be something in you instead.

You don’t tell Saeran your suspicions yet. You just go to the nearby pharmacy to grab a few pregnancy tests and bring them back to test them out. Through lines, shapes, and colors, all of them show that you are pregnant.

You’re sitting in the middle of a circle of different tests laid out on paper in the middle of the bathroom when Saeran finds you. He’s got a look of confusion, but after another pause where he’s spaced out he comes back with a look of bewilderment and horror.

You see his expression, and a small hysterical giggle leaves your mouth. “What do we do now?” You don’t even question the fact that Saeran is going to be a part of this, because you can’t live without him anymore.

He flounders for a bit, then gathers himself again. “Do you have a… doctor?”

You shudder as you think back to the days without _him_ , before you’d joined the RFA, and nod. You’re actually late for the next appointment as you should have gone back that first month.

“Yeah, let me make an appointment.”

The doctor is surprised to see that you’re pregnant, and five months along. You’re too thin to be five months along, not to mention that the ultrasound shows two little blobs and not one.

She bypasses you and tells Saeran what sort of diet you should be having, along with a long list of pills, supplements, things you can’t eat, and activities you should do for your health and the babies’ health. You think it’s because she can see the exhaustion and defeat in your posture. It doesn’t matter in the end because you don’t really listen. Saeran stands through it admirably, although he’d stumbled a bit at being mistaken as the father.

You don’t bother correcting them because you can’t think about _him_ without having at least a few tears, and having to tell others that _he’s_ gone is too hard for you. You think you hear Saeran attempt to explain, but instead, you focus on the children inside you.

For one horrible moment, you wish you could trade them for _him_ , but the wish fizzles out and instead, you think about how the children are proof of _his_ love for you. Of how you loved each other, and it doesn’t really make things better because they can’t replace him, but now you have more than Saeran to live for, and you think it’s the same for Saeran too.

Once home, Saeran is very strict on making sure you eat properly and he forces you to take walks with him around the neighborhood. He’s even managed to fix the dog and removed the gas tank, and you end up taking it with you on the walks. The neighbors mistake Saeran as your boyfriend or husband but you don’t really care to justify your relationship with Saeran to strangers. And Saeran doesn’t really seem to care either, so you let the rumors be.

Your life isn’t perfect; far from it really but it’s… okay. It’s livable in a way it wasn’t the first few months. The children definitely help, and Saeran’s surprisingly skillful support does as well. You’re not sure where he’s learned to cook or massage as well as he does, or what helps him overcome the things he’s faced through the years, but he’s so much better put together than you are.

If you’re hanging by a string, he’s sitting on a platform held up by thick wire. You sometimes wonder if he can feel _him,_ just like _he_ could feel Saeran back when you two were chasing after Vanderwood and the agency. You want to ask if _he’s_ still here, if _he’s_ next to you, but you can’t because you’ll stop seeing Saeran as himself and want things from him he can’t give. You can’t be that cruel to Saeran, so you never ask, and you muddle through the days.

Most of them are good, with cat playing _his_ voice and dog with his protective humor, with Saeran nagging and cajoling you, but there are bad ones where you can’t help but want to throw things. Those are the days when the RFA try to contact you.

You want to rip out their eyes, crush their hearts, make them suffer, and you splash paint onto your canvas on those days because throwing objects is a bad habit to get into when you’re going to have kids in a few months. It’s therapeutic in a way, painting out your frustration, and you’re sure there will be a buyer out there somewhere.

Saeran had worried about that for a bit, supporting you, providing money. You’d rolled your eyes, easy humor in your posture for once. “I’m actually a popular artist,” you’d said to reassure him. When that failed, you’d showed him your bank account, and the talks about getting a job had quieted down. Besides, more than money, you wanted his support at home.

That had been just when you’d found out you were pregnant. It’s been a month since then, and you’re actually round now. The doctor says it’s because you’ve got twins, and that if you have a single child, you probably won’t show until later.

You grimace at the words because you will never have another child again. These two are it for you and Saeran, and you know the both of you will guard them preciously.

It’s why the RFA irks you every time they try to contact you. You don’t want them to know about your kids. You don’t want them to even know they exist. It might be an irrational fear in others eyes, but you don’t want to give them even a chance to use your kids like Saeran and _he_ were used.

You think _he_ will support your decision, and you find yourself doing that a lot these days. What would _he_ think? What might _he_ do? What would _he_ want?

It’s because you want your kids to feel _his_ presence even though he’s not here anymore. You think of what to draw on their bedroom walls and settle for an outer space background on the ceiling filled with bright stars, the blue sky with fluffy clouds surround them.

 _He’d_ recommended gazing at the sky during the day, and Saeran likes it too. When the painting’s finished, the two of you spend time just gazing at the sky you created, and everything is peaceful for one second, and then your phone rings.

“You’ve got a call from Zen, meow,” cat tells you with your phone in its mouth.

You frown and reach to grab it. You’re going to reject the call, but your hand hesitates at the button. It reaches over and pushes accept and you put your phone up to your ear.

“Hello? Is it really you??” Zen’s voice is a bit anxious.

You nod, then seeing Saeran roll his eyes, realize Zen can’t see you, and you say, “Yes it’s me.”

“Oh thank god! I was so worried when no one could get in touch with you and after what that trust fund bastard said…” he trails off before starting again. “Anyway, I was just really worried and wanted to check up on you. Really, how are you?”

You breathe in deeply and think of Zen. He’s never hurt you, even at the funeral, he’d been by your side. From the chats you’ve seen, he’s had a sort of falling out with the others because he doesn’t understand how they can just cover everything up the way they did, and that thought, the support for you and _him_ is what makes you answer.

“I’m… okay. Saeran helps me a lot.”

“Yeah? I… is it bad that I want to visit you? To just see for myself?”

You chuckle. “It’s fine. I’ll send you my address,” you offer and you think about letting him know about your current state, but you stop because it will be fun to see his reaction. That’s how _he_ and you were before.

Zen comes over the next day bearing gifts of fruit which Saeran immediately washes and cuts some up for you while Zen stands there gobsmacked by your state.

You can’t help but laugh at his face, and it’s almost like _he’s_ still here, and while the fact that he isn’t stings, you don’t fall into the abyss either.

“Wha-? How-?” Words jumble out of Zen’s mouth and Saeran sighs that I’m-so-done-with-this-shit sigh and says, “She’s 26 weeks into her pregnancy. Yes they’re my brother’s. And yes, ‘they’re’, because they are twins.”

Zen stands up from the couch and nervously asks, “Can I touch-” then freezes and begins to panic, “I mean, I don’t know what I was asking,” and hurries to sit down again, but you smile fondly and nod.

“Sure,” because you don’t sense any ill will against you and your broken family from him, and he was, _is_ a good friend. And if you ignore the voice that says it’s because he had nothing to do with Rika or V afterwards, no one has to know. But seeing Saeran’s gaze, you’re pretty sure he knows.

Zen gushes happily, panics, and gushes some more after reassurance that you’re okay with the excitement. He’s not sure what might trigger you, you think, but he seems to know the big ones. Don’t talk about _him_ , don’t mention the RFA, in particular V and Rika, and everything is okay.

You talk for a few hours, to your surprise, and he leaves with a promise to visit again the week after as he’s got rehearsal. He’s eager to help you think of names for the babies, and every day afterwards, you get a call from Zen telling you to eat more, go out more, and so on. You think he’s even calling Saeran because he always gets a call in the evening when the two of you are doing your own thing after dinner.

And life goes on. You have two beautiful babies, and Zen is the one to come up with their perfect names. He visits often, bearing toys, clothes, and things for you and Saeran to enjoy as well. He comes and babysits with the two of you, and joins you for dinner at least once a week.

Saeran, meanwhile, is everything you need him to be and then some. He’s up in the wee hours of the night cajoling the children to sleep when they wake, and he’s amazing at keeping to their feeding schedule. He gently tosses them in the air and blows bubbles on their tummies to make them squeal with laughter.

And you make it, somehow. _He’s_ not here, and the pain never goes away, but there’s a great joy here that covers it. Some days, however, are worse, and on those days, the twins seem to sense it in you and they cuddle near you quietly, saying “I love you,” in their little high pitched voices, and they wipe the tears from your eyes at their words.

But there are more good days than bad, and life goes on. The RFA becomes a distant memory, what with Saeran having hacked into the messenger to copy and move over the logs from before onto a cloud account for you, and even still, you don’t cling to the messages so much anymore. Seasons pass, and time goes on.

You still love _him_ and you want _him,_ but _he’s_ given you so much and that makes life worth living.

Until the moment you are no longer alive.

It’s like floating into space, and you just keep on floating, wondering where you are going, why you’re going, if maybe you’re searching for someone.

And then, another light appears from below, travelling quickly as if to try and catch up to you which isn’t all that hard because you’re just floating with the gentle current.

It approaches you, and you don’t mind because you’re a spec of light yourself, unhurtable, untouchable, and so you let it draw close, and then…

“Hey, I’ve been waiting for you,” he says to you as he slowly merges with you.

You shudder as the memories pass through you, and you can see him next to you, clinging to your soul, shouting out his love for you for months because he doesn’t have a voice that grows hoarse, cooing at his children, helping his brother cope, telling his brother how to do things, giving him information on how to help you, to help himself, and you gaze at the soul in front of you.

“Saeyoung, I wanted to see you too,” you say in an almost peaceful voice that vastly contradicts with your feelings of the pain of the life you’ve lived without his living presence by your side.

“I love you so much,” he tells you, and his soul is nearly aligned with your own, and you can feel wisps of the yearning he’s been feeling all along.

You smile at his words, and you feel him smile back. “I love you more,” you reply, inching closer.

And he just keeps on smiling and lets his feelings of love pour out into you, enveloping you with his soul, and finally, you are home.

“Let’s get married at the space station,” he whispers to you after a moment and an eternity has passed.

You send back your own love for him and say, “Forever.”

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> First time that I successfully finished a fic on my phone... it's kind of abrupt but I just wanted to write the cat saying "Let's get married on a space station," and thus this fic was spawned. I am not sorry. xD Please leave a comment or kudos if you liked. ^^


End file.
